Stolen Heartbeats
by Kateya
Summary: A slightly dark ficlet...one shot, JS.


Disclaimer: Nope don't own this, so don't ask.

Author's note: Just a little drabble I wrote while I was bored.

Dirty.

That's how she felt. Like filth, like trash, as if the world was clogging her pores, preventing her from breathing. I wasn't the world that made her scrub off layers and layers of skin, it was him.

The gentle shower of water that ran in rivulets down her skin lulled her with its gentle rhythm, but did nothing to rid her of the sensation of him on her skin. His presence haunted her, mad it hard for her to breathe.

She had destroyed him, yet even now she knew he was not gone. She could feel his eyes on her, no matter where she was at. In that direct stare, she was transported – once again the naïve young girl who had refused the world he offered her.

Once again, she stood amid stone and marble, splendor surpassing her wildest imagination. No longer was she drenched in the soothing wetness of water droplets – they had long ago been seared away by the mismatched suns blazing through his intense gaze.

Her breath caught.

One. 

This was how it always was—this impasse was the turning point of their lives.

_Two._

Just like she remembered, he stood there, arm out stretched, time crystal nestled inside the palm of his hand.

_Three._

How fragile it was! Her hopes and dreams so easily shattered, so lost in the smoke swirling in the deep recesses of that innocent crystal.

_Four._

He speaks and yet remains silent. She vainly struggles to hear the words from the lips that hold her captivated.

_Five._

It doesn't matter; the words are etched on her heart. They both know this charade, yet never seem to tire of the moment. He takes a step towards her, she realizes and instinctively knows. God, how many times will she live this moment out? This is the part she hates: the look in his eye, the simple gesture of his hand.

_Six._

Her heart beats faster, yet slower than a distant, softly fading beat in the distance. Once again she refuses his out-stretched hand, once again regretting the decision. Could he have been sincere in his offer – could he really have given her all her dreams? Yet she turns him down, knowing she must win this duel of wills – a life is on the line.

But whose? She can't remember now. His, hers, she struggles to remember. Maybe it doesn't matter anymore – she just need to win. Then she will be free, of here, of him.

_Seven._

She opens her mouth to speak the words, and finds she doesn't remember. Her struggle is half-hearted—she knows she has already won. On the edges of her vision, cords of solid dark smoke writhe in response to her struggles, but progress steadily toward the two stationary figures. Slowly, his fingers clench, his eyes blink against the oncoming darkness.

_Eight._

She's beginning to panic. It has never taken this long before. The words are there, almost tangible in the now nearly encompassing darkness, but she fails to grasp them. The darkness makes it difficult for her, filling her with despair. She is frozen, captivated in place, while the darkness rolls around her.

_Nine. _

Yet, he stands apart from it, blazing in all his majesty. The realization hits her hard. He smirks at the slight widening of her eyes. This is different. This isn't suppose to happen.

_Ten._

She opens her mouth to speak, to scream, but like him no sound issues forth. Frozen in place, she struggles against her bonds, her eyes plastered on the figure ahead of her.

_Eleven._

He knows she's watching; he relished the power over her. Light flares in the dark, briefly driving back the living gloom before it extinguishes completely. He smiles, her old hatred of him no longer has the power it used to; it has been too long.

_Twelve._

Too long wondering what happened after she ended his world. Too long wondering if he hated her as much as she did herself, for passing such judgment on him. Wondering if she had made the right choice all those years ago.

_Thirteen._

He hadn't moved, by had just been waiting for her attention to once again settle on him.

She contemplated the position he was in; what was so important for her to note in his demeanor?

_Fourteen._

It lay in his hand. Outstretched and once freely offered, the hand now had a malevolent purpose.

_Fifteen._

Her dreams he had once offeredher. Her dreams he now released from its protective cradle to plummet to the unforgiving ground.

Time stopped.

_Sixteen._

_Seventeen._

_Eighteen._

She understood now the emotions that fueled him.

_Nineteen._

She struggled to release the breath she had been holding, to no avail. He had succeeded at last.

The precious crystal shattered on impact.

_Breathe._

_Twenty._


End file.
